


The Waters and the Wild

by DostoevskyBrosK



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Selkie Elizabeth Bennet, Selkies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DostoevskyBrosK/pseuds/DostoevskyBrosK
Summary: Elizabeth is a selkie, loving to play in the ocean with her many sisters. Until one day, she is forced ashore, and her skin gets taken. She is positive the haughty man who rescued her has hidden it away, and she hates him . . . really (it would help if he were not quite so handsome).
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Comments: 73
Kudos: 122





	1. The Ungovernable Sea

**Author's Note:**

> We are pretending that Pemberley is a seaside estate (rather like Manderley) for this story because come on – selkies. This story is probably ridiculous (but what else is new?), but I had so much fun writing it. Especially because it has made me feel close to Nana, my grandmother who died four years ago. Sometimes she would talk about her memories about her Irish parents and grandparents – some of their stranger customs like leaving milk under the sink for the fairies, and it would make my sister and me want to know more. One of the legends we became obsessed with was about the selkie. My sister and I loved to play this game and to imagine being a fat ole seal only to turn into a beautiful woman when you took your skin off. I am going with the version more from what I can remember of Undine (who isn’t strictly a selkie, so I am creating my own version of the legend) – I can never remember who it is by? Hoffman? I found it in our college library once and got obsessed. And then the book disappeared the next time I wanted to check it out (it had the most wonderful illustrations by Arthur Rackham).  
> I will be updating this story every Sunday and Thursday. It is already written – I am just working on revising it.   
> Note: This story is written by me (although obviously inspired by another's work). I do not want this posted anywhere else.   
> © All rights reserved.  
> No part of this publication (unless for personal use) may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, stored in a database and / or published in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.  
> Since I am (loosely because of course there are so many varieties) drawing on Irish legends / folklore, I thought it would be fun to do Yeats poems. The title of this whole work is from “The Stolen Child,” which I love (especially when it is sung):  
> Where dips the rocky highland  
> Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,  
> There lies a leafy island  
> Where flapping herons wake  
> The drowsy water rats;  
> There we've hid our faery vats,  
> Full of berrys  
> And of reddest stolen cherries.  
> Come away, O human child!  
> To the waters and the wild  
> With a faery, hand in hand,  
> For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
> 
> Where the wave of moonlight glosses  
> The dim gray sands with light,  
> Far off by furthest Rosses  
> We foot it all the night,  
> Weaving olden dances  
> Mingling hands and mingling glances  
> Till the moon has taken flight;  
> To and fro we leap  
> And chase the frothy bubbles,  
> While the world is full of troubles  
> And anxious in its sleep.  
> Come away, O human child!  
> To the waters and the wild  
> With a faery, hand in hand,  
> For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
> 
> Where the wandering water gushes  
> From the hills above Glen-Car,  
> In pools among the rushes  
> That scarce could bathe a star,  
> We seek for slumbering trout  
> And whispering in their ears  
> Give them unquiet dreams;  
> Leaning softly out  
> From ferns that drop their tears  
> Over the young streams.  
> Come away, O human child!  
> To the waters and the wild  
> With a faery, hand in hand,  
> For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
> 
> Away with us he's going,  
> The solemn-eyed:  
> He'll hear no more the lowing  
> Of the calves on the warm hillside  
> Or the kettle on the hob  
> Sing peace into his breast,  
> Or see the brown mice bob  
> Round and round the oatmeal chest.  
> For he comes, the human child,  
> To the waters and the wild  
> With a faery, hand in hand,  
> For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

Lizzy honked playfully at Jane as she swirled around her in ever widening arcs. Kitty and Lydia raced past them, rushing into the brightly colored glass that was nestled among the rocks where they were playing. Mary followed along much more sedately, as if chastising them all for their exuberance. _I do not know how she can be so calm. It is the first time this season we have been able to get out so far_. Lizzy thought to herself as she slowed into just bonking Jane’s side.

Jane turned to her and seemed to be chortling back. It had been a good pupping season for their colony, and the five of them had been very busy helping the new mothers. It was the first day they had been allowed to escape for some play, and all of them _even Mary if she would admit it to herself_ were feeling very frolicsome and energetic. It was Lydia who suggested they come searching here.

“Come on, Sisters! Just a little further.” Lydia pressed, her exuberance hard to hide.

“We have not gone far enough?” Kitty questioned back. She was poking at some of the smooth sea glass and did not want to leave it too soon.

“No, we are not! Come on. Leave that, Kitty. It will still be here on our way back. You know I would not lead us astray.” Lydia pulled at Kitty’s tail a bit, giggling.

Kitty swished her back with a burst of water but set down the glass and followed her sister.

Once the three youngest had swam ahead a little, Jane swam up next to Lizzy. “Did you hear Mother this morning?”

Lizzy’s gaze was caught by school of fish swimming up to the light of the surface. “What about. She was talking rather a lot.” She answered back distractedly.

Jane could not stop her snort of laughter. “True. But this was about me.”

Lizzy stopped and focused on what Jane was saying. “No, I did not. What did she say?”

“That next season I will join the pupping for our colony.” Jane let herself float, carried by the paths of the sea. Lizzy grabbed her tail to keep them connected.

“Did she really?”

Jane bobbed her head.

“We knew it was coming, but it does feel rather soon.” Jane whispered. They did know it was coming and had talked extensively about it before this past season of pupping. Neither Jane nor Lizzy felt quite ready to join the other women of their colony and have pups. Now, most of the colony actually whispered about Jane being just about over-ripe. They wondered if she felt the Call to go ashore to the humans as some of their kind did. In their colony they said it would be written in your skin, and if you felt the Call you would follow it whether it was safe for you or not. It was not exactly frowned upon, but it was not encouraged either.

It had been at least fifty years since one of their colony ventured ashore, letting herself turn human. She was now old, and her fur had gone grey. Lizzy loved sunbathing next to her and hearing the different stories of her time as a human. It seemed both strange and silly – to have two clumsy legs and none of the warmth of your own blubber surrounding yourself. But old Valentine said she would not have changed anything. It was an honor to be chosen to live among the humans for a time. She had fallen in love with a man, had three pups for him, and spent fourteen years with her human family before she found her skin again. He had taken it away when she first had dried out, turning herself into a woman. Lizzy would ask if she had wanted to be with him, since he had taken her skin. Their skins were seen as intimate, no one should touch them but the person they belonged to. Valentine would shake her head. She explained she gave him the skin to keep for a time. She always spoke wistfully of her human life. Yet, the one time Lizzy asked why Valentine came back and did she miss her family, she had quite lost her temper. She barked at Lizzy that she was only given fourteen years to be with them, and then she was needed back at their colony.

Even as Lizzy thought of it this day, watching her sisters frolic and thinking about Jane’s pupping and the way that she would probably have to pup in the season after Jane’s, she was not so sure it made sense. _Why would you have to come back? If Valentine was so happy as a human, why not stay? Come to that, why would you have to go ashore in the first place? Do we really not have a choice?_ Lizzy watched the antics of Kitty and Lydia, feeling very distracted. She turned herself over and let herself float, angling upwards. The sun was dancing on the surface of the water, and she rather felt like watching it slice through the water.

She let herself bob to the surface and float with the sun soaking her tummy. She was so caught up in the play of the sun warming her fur and the coolness of the water that surrounded her that she did not realize how close a boat had come near her. It was the voices of the men in the boat that startled her out of reverie. She almost plunged back down to join with her sisters. _But what harm can come from hearing the fishermen. It is not as if they are the first humans I have seen. My colony is not scared of humans as some are. They have always treated us well as can be expected._ Lizzy sank to let most of her body be hidden under the water but allowed her head to poke out of the surface of the water.

The boat looked quite small to her eyes as Lizzy was sure she had seen much larger ones before. The men seemed to be busying themselves with something she could not quite see. Lizzy, ever the most curious of their colony, attempted to crane her neck and see. Their hands were busy with what looked to be thin pieces of rope. Lizzy just about shrugged to herself and sank to join her sisters, but their conversation finally caught her attention. She did not think it seemed that interesting, but she also did not want to pull away. _It seems like I need to stay and hear. How strange. Did I not just want to leave?_ Lizzy let her questions float away and turned her attention to their discussion. 

One of the voices, which sounded harsh and gruff to Lizzy’s hearing, called to another “Bill, you got that netting? Pass it this way, will you?”

“Hold your horses, George. Sheesh. Give a guy a second.”

A third person entered the conversation, “So what were you saying Bill? How’s little Sally doing at the big house?”

“Ah, she good. They have quite taken to her, not that any of us are surprised. She is good as gold that girl.”

The other sailor nodded at him, “I knew she would find a good place there. The master is said to be very kind and patient.”

“And rich” broke in George.

Bill rolled his eyes, “Of course he’s rich, George. You’ve seen the lands he owns. I am just glad they could find a place for Sally. With Da and Ma dying this past winter, and my house full of Nell and the kids. We were quite worried about what would happen to Sally.”

“Just make sure to tell her to watch herself. Never too safe for a pretty girl like Sally. You hear such awful stories about what they do to the help.”

Bill nodded, “That is one of the reasons she went to Mr. Darcy instead of going to the Duke, whose estate is nearer to where she was living. At least Mr. Darcy has a good reputation.”

“If you want to call it that” George called, “He is more like a cold fish. Just ain’t touched none. Don’t seem too interested in any of the women from what I hear.”

“That’s true enough. Whenever he goes to London for the season, rumors circle on how different old matrons tried to get him trapped with their daughters.” They started to roughly laugh.

Lizzy cocked her head, having a hard time following what they were saying. Although she could understand the language, for it was the same one her colony spoke to each other, she did not know several of the words they were using.

She was so caught up in trying to decipher what they had been talking about that she missed a large swell that caught the boat. It came down hard against her right side. Something must have been hanging off of it or sticking out of it because it caught her and cut through her sharply.

She yelped in pain, but the sound got swallowed in the sea. The pain radiated from her side and her head. _Not good. Not good._ She knew to be careful when away from the colony but had not noticed how far they had drifted and was not really sure where her sisters were currently. The pain dominated her mental space, and she could not seem to find room to think. It ached and felt sharp in turn.

Lizzy noticed how close she was to shore and felt that it would be better to dry out ashore rather than join her sisters. _I just do not want to go too far. I am feeling so tired, and this hurts so badly. I just need to rest myself on the rocks here. I should be fine in a few hours._ She looked to her side that had been punctured and saw the sluggish bleeding, which really should worry her more than it did.

Getting herself ashore was an ordeal, but she managed it. She settled herself in between two rocks that jutted high above her, helping her to feel safe and protected. The sun worked against her, drying her more and more. As soon as the last drop of sea water dried from her fur, she changed. She would have been more concerned, but her head ached and felt fuzzy. The cloudiness took over and she merely looked at the flesh that stretched across her now as she would look at a slightly interesting fish. “Strange,” she whispered to herself.

From what Valentine had explained, Lizzy should have known that she needed to pick up her fur coat, which they called their skin, herself. She would need to hide it, especially if she intended on going straight back to the colony or present it to the person she would want to stay with. Yet her head simply would not allow that as an option. Everything was aching and pulsing. She curled up further into the rock, not realizing how her skin was sitting out a little beyond the two rocks. It could easily be seen by anyone passing by even though Lizzy was now quite hidden.

She allowed herself to put her head down, burying it between her new arms. _This really is the most exciting thing to happen to me, but I am just in too much pain to enjoy it._ Elizabeth’s vision started to fade, everything running together.

She thought she saw a man who appeared tall with brown hair pass by. He paused, looking at her skin curiously and then seized it. His touching it made Lizzy shiver and turn from him, hiding herself more in the rocks. In her haze of pain, she thought _Not him. Do not let him see me._ He stuffed her skin into his coat He looked around but did not notice her. He eventually turned and walked away. Lizzy felt relief rush through her without really understanding why. She moaned in pain, and finally the darkness overtook her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This poem is such a good representation of what makes Yeats such an unbelievably good poet. Unlike so many poets (I am looking at you Tennyson – but don’t be too sad, you know I love you too, old man) who get quite bad in their old age, Yeats did not. The poems he wrote as he got older seem to be just as powerful as when he first started. This poem is one of my absolute favorites from his later period. It is so witty, and the older I get the more it HITS home. The title comes from “The Circus Animals’ Desertion:”  
> I
> 
> I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,  
> I sought it daily for six weeks or so.  
> Maybe at last being but a broken man  
> I must be satisfied with my heart, although  
> Winter and summer till old age began  
> My circus animals were all on show,  
> Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,  
> Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.
> 
> II
> 
> What can I but enumerate old themes,  
> First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose  
> Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,  
> Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,  
> Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,  
> That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;  
> But what cared I that set him on to ride,  
> I, starved for the bosom of his fairy bride.
> 
> And then a counter-truth filled out its play,  
> `The Countess Cathleen' was the name I gave it,  
> She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away  
> But masterful Heaven had intervened to save it.  
> I thought my dear must her own soul destroy  
> So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,  
> And this brought forth a dream and soon enough  
> This dream itself had all my thought and love.
> 
> And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread  
> Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;  
> Heart mysteries there, and yet when all is said  
> It was the dream itself enchanted me:  
> Character isolated by a deed  
> To engross the present and dominate memory.  
> Players and painted stage took all my love  
> And not those things that they were emblems of.
> 
> III
> 
> Those masterful images because complete  
> Grew in pure mind but out of what began?  
> A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,  
> Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,  
> Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut  
> Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone  
> I must lie down where all the ladders start  
> In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.


	2. A Mermaid Found

Darcy almost felt like he was eight again, sneaking away from his governess with Richard or George _But better not think of that man, if he can be called that._ Darcy felt himself being the stodgy bastard Wickham always called him, but he could not help himself. _I cannot believe how he has grown up_. When they were young, they would run down to the water and explore all the nooks created by the rocks, fancying themselves great explorers. Now, he felt even more like a child as he kicked listlessly at the pebbles at his feet, willfully scuffing his boots. _I really should not do that. Poor Winston will have a devil of a time with them when I get back._ Darcy sighed and tried to walk neater. His valet was a good man, and Darcy really did not want to do anything to make his life harder.

Darcy stared out at the sea. Pemberley had many paths that led to the waters, and he never failed to feel something exciting. _Almost a calling. Sea – I wish you could help me with my problem. Another season gone. And what do I have to show for it? I am about ready to give up on the whole thing, but I really was hoping I could have married by now to help ease Georgiana’s entrance into society._ His mind wandered back over the past several months of parities and pressures. Darcy hated them. The expectation, the machinations, the way everyone looked at him for his money and estate and never for him.

He walked further onto the beach, seeking an old rock formation he remembered. _Maybe I can sit and dream of being an explorer again. I cannot believe I cannot find one woman who would suit me and care for Georgiana. I am not even looking for love_. Darcy ran his hand over the tall cropping of rocks, enjoying the way it had been smoothed by the crashing of the waves when the tide came in, currently it was dry. _I really do not think I am asking too much. I just want a woman I can be myself around. I do not think I could play a part my entire life, besides, I want her to be kind to Georgiana and how could I trust someone with that if I had to playact._

Darcy was just about to turn away and continue his meandering walk, when he noticed something almost porcelain in color just catching the fading sun’s rays. He had not seen it before because it was so hidden in between the high rocks, but the sun was reflecting off several things to just about hit it right.

 _Good God, is that a woman?_ Darcy rushed down, not caring for his boots or the mess he was making of his clothes as he scraped against the rocks.

 _It_ is _a woman_. Darcy quickly crouched next to her. He tried to belie his own discomfort at her apparent nakedness. _How did she come here? What happened to her? To not have clothes . . . I dare not think –_ Darcy’s running commentary was hitching up more and more in his anxiousness.

As gently as he could, he scooped her into his arms and much more carefully wove his way back to the beach. He set her down again, quickly taking off his great coat and wrapping her up in it to preserve her modesty. However, first he took off his cravat and pushed it against her side, which was slowly seeping blood. He tried not to linger, quickly covering her. She was swallowed up by his great coat, looking somehow smaller with it around her. His eyes searched the face of the woman in front of him. Her eyelashes were thick and spread out beautifully across her creamy pink cheeks. Her hair was black and curled beautifully around her features. It was long, at least to her waist and looked silky.

Darcy shook his head. He was already feeling rather like a cad. _What kind of person notices the beauty of a person they are trying to help? But her skin is so luminous. I have never seen anything like it._ He absently ran his hand across her cheek, trying to see if she was still breathing. _Nor have I felt something so smooth._ He rolled his eyes at himself. _Get it together, man. She is a defenseless victim and only the Lord knows what happened to her._ That was a chilling and sobering thought. He carefully began looking over her head and bit his own lip when he saw the dark hair that wrapped down her body was tangled at the top, clumped together in what looked to be dry blood.

_God, is there no justice? What happened to her?_

Deciding that getting her some expert medical care would be of paramount importance, Darcy picked her up again. She seemed to shift uneasily in his arms, and he tried to soothe her. She stopped moving, which almost worried him more. _I need to hurry back to Pemberley. Who can I send for the doctor that would be the fastest?_ His mind raced as he tried to move as quickly as possible without disrupting the beauty in his arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time he reached the house, Darcy was incredibly anxious for the woman he found. His mind had created some horrible suppositions on what had happened to her, and he felt almost physically ill. _What if these things happened to Georgiana? What would happen if some strange man found her?_ He tried to shake off his own uneasiness, calling for help. He quickly directed Jones to go for the doctor and Mrs. Reynolds to get a room ready for him.

Georgiana heard his shouting and rushed to see her brother. She had turned fourteen about two months ago, and felt herself to be quite the grownup woman, although she was rather shy among anyone who was not family. “What do you have in your arms, Fitzy?”

Darcy looked up at her, struggling to figure out what to say, “A woman. I found her on the beach just among the rocks.” Darcy was quickly moving her to the room Mrs. Reynolds was directing him towards. It was one of the closest and had a lovely view of the sea. For some reason that felt right to Darcy.

“Georgie, would you go and get some of your nightgowns for the woman?” He could not put in to words his hope she would not ask why. He wanted to protect Georgiana, but he also did not approve of treating her like a child, so he would not lie to her. Thankfully, she just nodded her head and disappeared.

Mrs. Reynolds was right there, noting the use of her master’s great coat. She both approved of his generous spirit and was rather worried about what this could mean for him. She made a silent promise to herself to not let him get trapped into anything he did not want. She quietly called for hot water, towels, and bandages to be brought in, thinking of which maids she could assign to duty to be with the woman so that if anyone wanted to insinuate something nasty, there would be a witness to everything.

Darcy gently set the woman down and seemed to be murmuring something into her ear. Mrs. Reynolds could not quite hear it.

“Sh. You are alright now Miss. No one will hurt here. I promise.” Darcy could not help whispering to the poor woman. Thinking of his Georgie at someone’s mercy pricked at his mind, and he wanted to make sure this woman was treated in the best way in his home. He sighed and rubbed at his face, the adrenaline finally wearing off.

Mrs. Reynolds noted her master’s haggard appearance and sent for some soup and fresh bread. She would make him eat while they waited for the doctor. “I will look over her, Sir.” She subtly motioned him to a chair, which he immediately took. She smiled at him, thinking about how he had always been such a good man, even as a child, so willing to please. She shook her head at herself and began to look the woman over. She clearly had a head wound, which was most worrisome.

“She has a cut on her side too, Mrs. Reynolds. I did not want to disrespect her too much, so just used some cloth to create pressure. I am sure it needs to be cleaned and bound better than that.”

Mrs. Reynolds nodded. “I will see to it, and hopefully the doctor will be here soon.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth woke slowly, mostly aware of the driving pounding in her head. She moaned a bit as she tried to blink herself awake. Her side radiated pain as well, but it all felt duller than earlier. Suddenly, her eyes shot open. She was sitting on what Valentine had only ever described to her. It was soft, squishier than any sea jelly she might play with, and indescribably comfortable. _For this alone, surely it is worth being a human_. She was so caught up in enjoying the sensations she had never experienced before that she did not notice anyone else in the room with her.

Her startled waking and shifting in the bed jarred Darcy out of the light sleep he had inadvertently succumbed to. He cleared his throat uncertainly at the blinking eyes, which revealed the most expressive black pools of ebony that he could easily imagine getting lost in.

Elizabeth’s head shot up when she heard the strange sound, which caused her entire head to ache and pulse. But she was greeted by a welcome surprise. Sitting not too far away from her was what must be a human man. She had scorned all the men in her colony because none had seemed to fit, despite her mother’s hope. They were all . . . lacking something. Yet here was a delicious man. _I would quite eat him up_. Lizzy thought to herself almost calling up a laugh.

He had tousled, dark hair that curled around his forehead nicely. His eyes caught the light in a pleasant way, and he looked handsome. _Appealing in a way no one has appealed to me before. What is it about him?_ Lizzy continued to look, as indeed, he looked at her. She noticed that his neck looked quite attractive with the light, _Candle I think it is?_ dancing across it. His lips looked delectable, although that thought confused Lizzy somewhat. _Do humans eat each other? Why did I not ask Valentine more specifics about what a human thinks? She did say that when you are human your thinking will match their patterns rather than when we are seal. I never could wrap my mind around not wanting to chase a fish, but she assured me that is not what I would be feeling as a human. Seems she is right. I would much rather be chasing this man._

Lizzy did smile then. “You are handsome. I have decided it. Not only that, but I think that shows that I am human.” She proclaimed happily, thinking about her opinions and how they seemed to prove it to be true. _I cannot believe I am here in the human world. What stories I will have to tell!_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She looked like a star who had fallen out of the sky into his house. Into his bed. _Give it a rest Darcy. It is not even a bed you have ever used_. He tried to chastise himself. The doctor had come, stitched her up, proclaimed that she would heal up if given rest and his medicine and left again. Darcy had stayed in the room, not even bothering to get refreshed because he could not bear to tear himself away from the strange woman.

 _Something about her calls me. I cannot just leave her. I do not know if I ever want to leave her._ He shook his head at himself. _I need to calm down. I do not even know her. She could be terrible_. But then he watched the way her eyes came alive when they blinked open. She was clearly still feeling the pain from her wounds, and he wanted to ring for some food for her. Yet, she stared at him, so boldly, that he felt himself returning the stare. _It really is only fair. I have spent the past several hours staring my fill._

Nothing prepared him for her bold proclamation of his own handsomeness. Darcy had never been one to receive a compliment well and felt himself turning bright red. He quite missed the second part of what she was saying because he was so caught by the first.

He stood up uncertainly, “Now miss. Will you tell me your name? What happened to you? Did someone hurt you?”

She cocked her head at him in a strange way that made Darcy think of his dog Caliban, the thought shocking him quite a bit.

She opened her mouth and then seemed uncertain and shut it again.

“My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy. I found you on the beach. You were bleeding.” _And naked_.

“They call me Lizzy.” Her voice melted into the room, lyrical and lilting. Darcy felt like he could drown in it. “And no one hurt me. At least they did not mean to. I was just swimming and got caught by a rouge wave. It caused me to hit a boat quite badly.”

To say Darcy was shocked would be a severe understatement. “You . . . were . . . swimming. Naked?”

She looked at him uncertainly. “Yes? How else does one swim?”

His cheeks turned even more vividly red. “Miss Lizzy, that is hardly appropriate behavior for a woman. What were you thinking?”

Darcy was not even aware of how condescending his tone had become. But Lizzy was. She pushed herself up a little, “I do not think I need to answer that. How do you know what is appropriate for a woman? Are you one?”

He shook his head. “Well, no, of course not.”

“Then you cannot say I am being one badly. I am being my own woman. It might be different than you have seen, but that does not make it inappropriate.” She was clearly miffed at him.

Darcy felt himself tense. _I did not mean it like that. But how can I explain that to her?_ “I only mean you could get hurt. A woman should never be without clothes. Surely you see this. Only a whore would be seen out in public with no clothes – and even then…” He was getting more frustrated and not paying attention to her confusion, only focusing on what was clearly right.

“Ah, so I am a whore?”

Darcy finally realized what he had been saying and shook his head. “Well, no-”

“Is this your house? Because of how you found me, will you expect me to pay you like a whore for staying here?” She replied coldly. 

“No, no, of course not, Miss. I did not…” Darcy sighed. “Let me call Mrs. Reynolds to help you.” He reluctantly left her room, frustrated with himself and even more confounded by the strange woman residing in his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, a selkie is not a mermaid, but I love all the women as creatures lore that comes from the sea, its danger, and men’s fear of women – so I think this still works for where we find Lizzy in this story. Plus, poor Darcy – what does he think of what he has found? The title comes from Yeats’ rather dour “The Mermaid” that gets at some of my favorite things to hate about the mermaid tradition – that she is this evil creature just set to drown the poor man who gets caught by her. Classic Yeats (who had some major issues with women, largely stemming from a pathetic unrequited love he held for poor Maud Gonne), but man he still can write so lyrically.  
> A mermaid found a swimming lad,  
> Picked him for her own,  
> Pressed her body to his body,  
> Laughed; and plunging down  
> Forgot in cruel happiness  
> That even lovers drown.


	3. The Indifferent Stars Above

Lizzy huffed to herself as the man left. _Well, he might look handsome, but that does not mean he speaks prettily_. All of the sudden her predicament rushed upon her. Of course, Valentine had talked about how important humans think clothing is, so she supposed he was only trying to help her. _But I mean really. He was treating me like a child or like a whore, as he himself said._ She felt her blood boiling in irritation.

Suddenly, she remembered the last thing she saw before she passed out – _There was a man who took my skin. If he has my skin, he has me._ She felt a cold shiver pass through her. _What can I do against someone who keeps my skin from me_? She felt the pull and longing to find her own skin and hug it to herself. She rather fancied staying with the humans for some time, but she did not want to be without that part of herself.

 _I saw who took it, but it was so hazy. He was tall, like this Mr. Darcy, and had dark hair, also like Mr. Darcy. Does this man have my skin? Will he be able to make me do anything he wants?_ She felt herself shaking. It was a common fear among all of her kind. It happened so easily to many of them, being trapped and controlled by another. Her colony, and most of her kind from what she understood, prized freedom above all. _If he tries something. I will be ready. I do not know how. But I will think of something_. With these fierce thoughts flitting through her mind, Lizzy tried to calm herself. She felt caught, anxious, and afraid. She could not seem to calm herself or to think clearly. She began shaking again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A week passed in a blur for Lizzy. She continued to feel anxious about her skin, but Mr. Darcy never brought it up. Indeed, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure she felt comfortable. This only worried her more as she tried to understand his motives. The joy of her waking had been short lived, and worry dominated her mindscape. The doctor had cleared her yesterday for walking, and today, she had managed to get everything in order to take a walk. She felt the pull and longing of looking at the sea.

It never occurred to her to think of how she got the clothes that were set out for her use. Or that someone was doing their best to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. She merely took it as it came, putting the warm clothes on and feeling rather pretty in the expensive fabric.

She did not need to know the paths to find her way to the sea. She could hear it calling to her. She stared out at the crashing waves. She _did_ want to stay in the human world, but since the realization of her skin sunk in, she now felt trapped. She could not return to the sea without her skin, and she itched to jump into the waves and let it take her away.

Lizzy was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not see the man just behind her until he grabbed her arm. This startled her and made her flesh crawl. “Why are you touching me?” She asked, worried.

The man smiled at her. His smile made her think of the sharks they would play with sometimes. The kind that was good fun, but one had to be very careful around them. The games could turn bloody very quickly.

“Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were alright. You are not lost, are you?”

She could not decide what to think of him, but answered, a bit uncertainly, “No. I know where I am. Are you?”

He laughed loudly. “No indeed. I am with a beautiful woman. How could I be lost? My name is George Wickham. What is yours?”

She could not help but return his laugh. There was something genial about him she decided. “Mine is Lizzy.” She looked up at the sky she hardly recognized and realized she would be wanted back at the house. “I have to go. Maybe I will see you again sometime.”

"Count on it.” He called after her. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By far one of Lizzy’s favorite people in her new world was Georgiana. She reminded Lizzy so much of her sisters – kind of a strange amalgamation of them all, making her a delight to be around. They often walked together or just sat and chatted. Georgiana also seemed to be without judgment. She would answer any of Lizzy’s questions, even when she knew they were a little strange, and make her feel at ease.

Mrs. Reynolds had assigned one of the maids, Sally, to be for Lizzy’s particular use. Sally helped her get ready and followed her around mostly. Lizzy thought it strange, but Sally was such good company she could not bother caring.

Today, they were all walking through the garden, which was at the top of the hill, allowing a wonderful view of the sea water sparkling in the sun.

“Lizzy,” Georgiana began, “Are you at all worried about . . . you know. Getting back to where you came from?”

Lizzy bit her lip, “I am rather. I cannot go back yet though. I have to have something in order to get there.”

Georgiana shook her head at Sally. They had tried to figure Lizzy out, but it had all been pretty confusing. She seemed high born, by her accent, and she clearly had soft hands as if she had not worked for a living. Yet, she had not told anyone her last name, and Georgiana knew Darcy was worried about her. She could also tell that Darcy was rather enamored of her, so his worry was tempered by his desire. Which suited her just fine. She had never had such a good friend before – fun to talk with, easy to be herself around, and kind. Lizzy helped her visit their tenants and bring food. She was particularly good with children. Mostly, it seemed like they all agreed not to worry about it, but sometimes Georgiana was afraid she would disappear as easily as she had appeared. She knew it would hurt Darcy, which she wanted to avoid.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy had integrated into life at Pemberley very easily. Everyone seemed to accept her for as she was. _Except the master of the house._ She thought a bit peevishly. Darcy had been nothing but kind to her really, but it seemed like whenever they exchanged words, he insulted her. _I do not even know if he knows that he does it._ She kicked a leaf a little down the path in front of her _._

As if summoning him by mere thought, Darcy appeared at the head of the path. “Ah, Miss Lizzy. How are you today?” He asked.

Lizzy shrugged. “No complaints, Sir. I love the air here and the walks are something special.” She gestured to the scenery around them. “Everyone I meet is quite kind to me.”

Darcy smiled quietly to himself at that.

“I love that I am so close to the sea and get to visit it often. It calls to me, you know.” She looked at him to see how he would react to that. She kept feeling like she needed to search his room for her skin, but every time she did, she found nothing,

Darcy nodded. “I have often felt that way myself. There is something special about the sound of the waves and its gentle, never ending cycle.”

Lizzy could not help but smile at that. She was surprised to hear him echo something she felt so deep inside of herself.

“When I walk the beach there is often a man there. We talk of all sorts of things.” She continued walking, trusting that Darcy was following her. She was not aware of how rigid he had gone. “He seems so nice. His name is George Wickham. Do you know him?” She turned slightly to see a harsh expression on Darcy’s face. _He looks like he is ready to . . . I do not know._ She moved a little away from him, concerned about his look. The feeling only increased when he spoke.

“Miss Lizzy, I must ask that you keep your distance from that man.” Darcy said coldly. His words almost clipped short, clearly, he was working to contain his anger.

Lizzy drew herself up, _one thing my kind never likes is being told what not to do in such a supercilious way. Just because he has my skin does not mean I am going to fall over for him. I am my own person. He will not control me_. “Thank you for letting me know, Master. I will be careful to follow your every whim. I would hate for you to disapprove of me.”

She turned and marched quickly away, ignoring Darcy’s apology and call for her to come back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that day, when the sun had just about disappeared, Lizzy was once again wandering outside. She looked at the cold stars that were blinking into existence in the sky. The feelings of isolation and fear overwhelmed her. _I miss Jane. I miss the snuffle of the pups and the feel of always being surrounding by water. The air is so empty here_. She felt caught up in her own sorrow, frustrated at life.

Unexpectedly, furious voices broke across her thinking.

“I will not be told what I can and cannot do, you bastard. I am not your lackey who must serve you. Not everyone obeys your sacred word, Darcy.”

Lizzy carefully picked her way to where she could see the two men, Wickham and Darcy, exchanging words.

“I do not expect you to obey my every wish, Wickham. But this is my land, and I do not want to see you on it again. Do you understand me?”

 _I cannot believe Darcy is banning Wickham from his land. Did not George tell me just a day ago that he grew up here. Surely this is as much his home as it is Darcy’s._ She felt herself getting more and more frustrated. _He is so clearly a hard man. I cannot allow him to be the one to possess me. I_ must _find my skin._ Lizzy picked at her clothes in anxiousness. _I do not want to be trapped_. She moved back down the path towards the home, even more sure she needed to investigate Darcy’s rooms and find her skin.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy sighed as Wickham yelled at him. _This is a real mess_. “Look, Wickham. You know I do not want to condemn you. I want to help you. But you have to help yourself. You cannot treat women the way you do. There have been more complaints in the village. You use women, as if they are exposable. They are not. When you leave, they are left trying to solve the problem that was not of their own making. And I will not have you do that to anyone on Pemberley soil.”

“Oh, you won’t? You pompous ass. I know you will find this hard to believe. But you do not control me, Darcy. You never did. And you never will. I cannot help it if women allow themselves to be taken. They make it so easy.”

“You disgust me, Wickham.” Darcy said, his fury boiling over, “I am telling my men to look out for you. It will be trespassing at the very least. And since I am the magistrate in the area, guess how that will go for you.”

“You are not even pretending to be above it all. Look at you, willfully abusing your power.”

“It is hardly an abuse of power if you have broken the law, Wickham.” Darcy sighed. “I do not like this. Remember when we were boys. What happened George? Who are you?”

“Stop it. You bloody disgust me with your willful ignorance. This is who I have always been. And what does she matter anyway? She is just a maid.” Wickham scrunched his face up in anger, but then said, “Look. I will go. Happy?”

Wickham marched off, furious. He hit with his walking stick a couple of the plants, knocking the flowers down. Darcy shook his head and sighed deeply. “I did not want it to be this way. Really.” He hung his head back and looked at the stars that burned above him. They looked as foreign to him as George now was. He could not recognize the boy he played with, and it weighed on his heart. _I had to do it. I need to protect those around me. And George has become a real problem. Why can he not treat others with care? I do not want to have to handle him according to the law one day, but I truly do fear it will go that way. Also, what was it that he said about a maid? I supposed that is another story I will need to investigate._ Darcy shivered, thinking about how close George had gotten with Lizzy. She was such a strange woman – innocent in most ways, and without any sort of guile. _She almost seems surprised about certain things that she really ought to know. I wonder why? Was she just raised cut off from others? I always seem to forget to ask her, and I suppose it could be rude._ He worried about her innocence and how it could betray her, if he did not protect her first. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title is from the poem “A Dream of Death.” I like the poem overall, but I think that one phrase “the indifferent stars above” is so so good. What an image! Haunting, relatable, a reminder of how cold nature can seem to us. And I feel like this must be how Lizzy feels as she looks above her and sees these stars that bring no comfort for her, alone and isolated from her family. Here is the whole poem:  
> I dreamed that one had died in a strange place  
> Near no accustomed hand,  
> And they had nailed the boards above her face,  
> The peasants of that land,  
> Wondering to lay her in that solitude,  
> And raised above her mound  
> A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,  
> And planted cypress round;  
> And left her to the indifferent stars above  
> Until I carved these words:  
> She was more beautiful than thy first love,  
> But now lies under boards.


	4. Things Fall Apart

Lizzy was enjoying her time at Pemberley. The house was magical to her. It was so different than what she had lived in with her colony. Sally made for good company, and they would talk about all manner of things together. Georgiana often joined them, which pleased Lizzy. To her, Georgiana represented everything Darcy could have been if he were not so dominated by his own pride and selfishness. However, the past two weeks with Sally had gotten a bit strange. She seemed to be retreating inside of herself, and Lizzy could not figure out why. She resolved that she would talk it out with Georgiana, and they would make a plan on how to help her. 

Sometimes, when it was late at night, and Lizzy would look out to the sea from her window, she could admit to herself that perhaps she was so angry with Darcy because she wanted him to be so much better. His flaws hurt her so much more since she saw glimmers of things she . . . liked. Her heart felt pulled to him, and at night she could just about explain why. However, when the harsh day melted away the darkness, Lizzy felt her heart harden again. She would then just see him as dangerous. Saw him as the keeper of her skin. _Surely that is why I feel attracted to him. He is merely the keeper of my skin._

Darcy did seem to go out of his way to talk with her or help her, which confused her. _Why would he work so hard if he already possesses what he needs to control me? Maybe he does not understand it. From what I have seen, most humans treat us as more myth than reality._

She tried to move away from these thoughts since they seem to dominate so much of her time on land. Rather, she wanted to enjoy all the different types of food and run with her strange legs. Georgiana had actually made a list with her, noting down all the things she would like to do. Lizzy was not sure what Georgiana thought it was for, but that was part of what made her so easy to get along with. She did not judge you and really did not find too many things strange. By far, Lizzy’s favorite things to do was walk. She could not believe how it felt to have the wind caress her cheek. It made her think of the way water would, but it was contrasted with the lack of blubber. As a seal, she could not feel things with any sort of immediacy. She tried to walk at least three times a day, following a different path each time – though they all always led her to the sea. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy watched as Lizzy wound her way through his estate yet again. He was seated on his horse Cicero and had just finished with his steward. Now his time was his own, and he wanted to join Lizzy on her current wandering. He tried to join her at least once a day. It was his favorite time of the day, and he rather fancied it was Lizzy’s favorite time too. They would get some alone time together. _I feel just about ready to confess myself to her. She cannot be surprised that I love her, but I do think she will be surprised that I am going to ignore societal expectations and offer for her._ He smiled to himself, confident of his choice to make himself known. _I will need to take Cicero back to his stable._ But just as Darcy was turning to leave, his ears caught Lizzy’s musical laugh. He would have hated to tell someone that is how he described her laugh, but it was the truest thing he could connect it to. Everything about Lizzy’s voice seemed to have a musicality to it, which Darcy could happily listen to indefinitely. It made him think of the legends of the sea he would listen to happily as a boy. They had one groundskeeper whose father had been a fisherman. He would spin the most glorious, strange tales of voices that enthralled. _Lizzy's voice is rather like that._

He turned from directing Cicero back to the stables to watch as Lizzy caught up one the Miller children. The Millers were a large family, and Darcy was happy to allow the eleven children freedom on all Pemberley land.

He watched, enchanted, and enthralled, as Lizzy seemed to be telling the little gaggle of children some sort of story. They were also clearly fascinated by her telling. There seemed to be some sort of game to it that Darcy could not work out. Each one of the kids would approach Lizzy at different intervals and _What is it they are doing?_ Darcy moved to get closer, not really thinking about what it might seem to another for him to be spying on a woman telling some stories to children. 

When he finally got close enough to overhear, he could not seem to make sense of what she was saying. _Some sort of myth? I feel like I remember hearing something of this story when I was younger. Ah . . . yes. She is telling them about selkies._ Darcy could not help smiling to himself. _I suppose I could tease Lizzy about being one herself. I found her, unclothed, on the shore. She appeared as if out of no where and did not have a last name._ Darcy’s smile slowly faded from his face. _She does not have a last name. She does not seem to have anywhere she needs to be. No. Come on. That is ridiculous._ His heart was beating faster and faster inside of his chest.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy smiled down at little Jesse who was clinging to her leg, but then looked up when she heard the snapping of a small branch. _It really would not do for anyone to hear what I was telling the children_. Lizzy chided herself. She was not really sure why she felt compelled to tell them the story, perhaps it was mere homesickness. Sure enough she spied Mr. Darcy just beyond them. _Was he close enough to hear? Would it matter if he was?_

“Alright. Enough stories for today, you lot! Come find me tomorrow, and maybe I will continue them.” Lizzy sent the children off.

She was going to pick her way around Darcy, but he had such a funny look on his face, she felt like she needed to address it as quickly as possible.

“A fine day for a ride, is it not?”

Darcy seemed to jar out of his strange stupor and looked up to meet her eyes. Hers were inquisitive, and he seemed to be matching that sentiment. “A. . . yes. A fine day. Cicero and I were just finished and . . . Um.”

Lizzy almost found herself smiling at him. _He looks quite adorable all flustered. Almost makes me think of a misbehaving boy. So different than the image he likes to project so much._ “Are you alright, Mr. Darcy? You look a little shaken.”

“I suppose I am . . . Miss Lizzy. I find myself thinking the strangest thing.”

Lizzy felt her skin prickle, and she looked at him carefully. “Strange does not always have to be bad.”

He shook his head slowly, “No. I suppose you are right. It feels ridiculous, but I could not help overhearing the story you were sharing with the children. And. Well. It seemed to fit you rather well.” He started to laugh. “No, obviously that _is_ ridiculous.”

Lizzy felt herself swallow. _If he already has my skin would it be a surprise? Does it matter if he knows? It is not like it_ must _be a secret._ Lizzy tried to weigh these things in her mind and was just about to say something when Darcy stopped her. He seemed to be taking a deep breath, collecting himself.

“Miss Lizzy, in vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. You know there are certain expectations of me in society. I need to marry a woman from a respected family. I want to chose someone that will help smooth Georgiana’s way, and I want to make sure she is suitable – both from my perspective and from the perspective of society.” He waited a beat, allowing Lizzy time to process what he was saying.

“However, I have decided to overlook your obvious shortcomings: your lack of family, your unusual lack of knowledge in many areas, and your naivete. I think despite these things, we would make a good couple. Maybe other people will say I married beneath myself, but I will not mind it. You and Georgiana are already good friends, and I am sure that alone is worth this.” Darcy took Lizzy’s hand. “I will help you know how you need to act, and you have my promise that you will never need to fear recriminations on any of this account. I know you, and I am willing to meet you where you are.”

Lizzy had stopped in her tracks several sentences back, trying to make sense of what Darcy was saying to her. She pulled her hand out of his. “Is this a proposal?” She asked, completely flummoxed.

Darcy smiled at her, “Yes, of course it is.”  
“But you have not even asked me my opinion yet.”

“Very well. Lizzy, would you do the honor of marrying me?”

“I hate to put pain to anyone, but I have to say no. I will not marry you.”

Darcy looked at her shocked.

“What? Why?”

“You dare to ask me why? Just listen to yourself. Pompous, arrogant, above me. I cannot believe you proposed by telling me how you had to overlook my shortcomings, as you call them.” Lizzy felt her voice rising but could not stop herself. She was furious, embarrassed, and ashamed.

Darcy fumbled over his words a little, but Lizzy was too focused on her own emotions to care. “I was not trying to insult you. I just wanted to be honest.”

“There are better ways to be honest, Mr. Darcy. Besides, the manner of your proposal is only partially why I would never accept you. I would rather be swallowed up by the sea than marry someone as conceited as you. If you were the last human on earth, I would not marry you.” Her tone was becoming more and more vitriolic, and Lizzy felt herself saying rather more than she meant, but she was hurt. “I have other reasons. You know I do.”

“What other reasons?” He sounded almost chocked as he managed to get the words out.

“Well, there is the clear mistreatment of Mr. Wickham. I suppose you did not like that I would stop and talk to him sometimes on my walks. Maybe I should not talk to anyone else again. You just interrupted me with the Millers. Are you jealous of them as well? Are you going to kick them off your land?”

Darcy starred at her in confusion, trying to work through what she was saying and what she meant. Yet, she continued speaking, the words washing over him and making them difficult for him to follow.

“Besides that, you have taken something from me, which you know I need. Why even pretend to ask when you can do anything you want with me anyway.”

“I would never dishonor – ”

Lizzy cut him off, feeling overwhelmed with her need to finally demand her skin back. “If you were any kind of gentleman, as you pretend to be, you would give it back. You would let me make my own choices and not trap me here just so you do not have to be alone.” The words rang in the empty air and Lizzy was surprised to see how haggard Darcy looked as he took in her last speech.

“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.” He walked away, leading Cicero behind him.

Lizzy was left standing alone, _What was that?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy felt himself shaking as he clumsily passed Cicero off to the stable boy. He could not even seem to form words or make sense of what had just happened. _How could it have gone so badly? I thought she at least liked me. But obviously I have been a fool. A fool too confident in own self. And she thinks Wickham is the better choice. That scoundrel who does not know how to treat any sort of woman._ He was tied up, thinking of all the things she said and how he had not responded to them at all. _I need to say something. I need her to understand . . . at least a little. Clearly, her “no” must stand. I would not want to abuse her by forcing her to reconsider my proposal._ He stopped himself, realizing what he needed to do. He set out with new purpose, even as he felt weighted down by the pointlessness of it all. _I finally found a woman to love, and . . ._ He shook his head, trying to stop that flow of thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from a poem I am sure you have heard before “The Second Coming.” It is such a good poem! It captures the horrible reality modernism presented to so many people. But the phrase I used is one I think about any time things don’t go quite my way. In fact, my sister and I say it to each other when we are going through it. And let’s be real, poor Darcy is going through it right now. Poor love. Here is the whole complex poem (these images! He is so good at them):  
> Turning and turning in the widening gyre  
> The falcon cannot hear the falconer;  
> Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  
> Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,  
> The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere  
> The ceremony of innocence is drowned;  
> The best lack all conviction, while the worst  
> Are full of passionate intensity.
> 
> Surely some revelation is at hand;  
> Surely the Second Coming is at hand.  
> The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out  
> When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi  
> Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert  
> A shape with lion body and the head of a man,  
> A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,  
> Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it  
> Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.  
> The darkness drops again; but now I know  
> That twenty centuries of stony sleep  
> Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,  
> And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,  
> Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


	5. On the Wandering Foam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a slight warning is needed. There is a reference to a rape (not to any of the main characters) that did not occur on the screen (as it were). I always seem to make Wickham go there because I think of him very much as a sexual predator of the 1800s. Usually I don’t make it quite so obvious or bad (I see him much more of the kind of predator who is careful not to go too far so he can keep going on with his creepy life), but I think there is some real sexual danger / consent issues inherent in the selkie myth, which I wanted to address in some way (while obviously not playing into those elements for our main love story).

“Mr. Darcy? What should be done? I believe the girl, but you know most will not.” Mrs. Reynolds watched as Darcy paced in front of her.

“I am glad you made inquiries about it.” Darcy sighed. “I am leaving for London in the hour, anyway. Tell Sally to come with me. She will be transferred to our London residence for the time being. At least until we can help her have the child discretely. I will talk with her on the way to see what she would prefer most. I know that we could probably get a man to agree to marrying her, but I want to make sure she does not feel trapped into anything.” Darcy felt the rush of emotion and guilt swell up inside of him, thinking of Lizzy and of the disgusting Wickham. “We will be able to protect her reputation, and she can decide what option she wants to go with. Please, go tell her.”

He watched as Mrs. Reynolds left, and felt his body slouch. It was difficult to project the confident master she needed right now. _What a revolting mess. I should have shot Wickham when I had the chance. Now, a life has been ruined by him. I have failed as a master._ His thoughts, of course, then turned to Lizzy, which he ruthlessly squashed. He double checked that he had everything he needed, and quickly sought out Georgiana to explain that he was needed in London. _More like, just not needed here. Anywhere but here. I cannot have Lizzy feeling trapped by me. That is clearly one of her main fears, as well it might be. And if she is what I suspect her to be, I can understand why she is even more wary of it. However, I could never take away the one home she has found_. _The strangeness of finding her has been like an itch in the back of my mind. I just cannot make sense of who she is or where she came to be. And I cannot bring myself to care, but the more I think on what I heard her talking to the Millers about . . ._ Darcy almost did not dare to continue that train of thinking. It was too odd for him to think, surely. _Right? And yet, I really think it suits her. I think she believes it of herself, if nothing else._ He took the letter he had been working on all night, and added one last section. Just before he went to Georgiana, he caught sight of Lizzy. He managed to give her the letter, and then took his leave.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy was surprised when Darcy mumbled something she could not quite understand and shoved a letter into her hand. She had only just gotten up and was having a hard time processing everything. She accepted the letter and retreated back to her room. Sitting in the window seat, looking out to the sea, Lizzy felt ready to face the contents of the letter.

"Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first is that I have treated Mr. Wickham unfairly. I am not sure why you believe this, but let me tell you, in no uncertain terms, that Wickham very much resides in a bed of his own making. I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has particularly accused me, I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; -- most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman's education. My father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it.

As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities -- the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain -- to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. He is the kind of man to treat women as exposable. At school, he regularly got himself into trouble with shopkeepers with his treatment of their daughters. He found it humorous. He was always impressed with himself and bragging of all the women he ‘conquered.’ He would mock me for being a monk and a coward to pursue the right given to me as a man. He seemed to enjoy detailing his dalliances just to watch me squirm. Of course, this directly led to a lessening of time spent together. In the intervening years, he seemed to grow only more dissolute. And recently, it has come to my notice in the harshest of ways that he does not care if the women are desirous of his favors. He bestows them liberally without concern of consent. I had grown wary of him and enough rumors circulated that I understood fire was somewhere about. That is the reason I had him removed from Pemberley. I would do it again, if I had to, but I hate that it pained you.

The other charge you brought against me is that I would control you – that I have something of yours. I think I understand you, and I can only say. I do not have it, madam. When I found you, there was nothing beside you. I would never have kept it from you in any case. It is yours to do with as you desire. I would never seek to trap you or hold you back from the sea. I still will not, and if you need help with finding the other part of yourself – all I can offer is that the entirety of my estate is at your disposal. You can work through Georgiana if you like.

I will only add, God bless you.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY.'' 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Georgiana had asked Lizzy to walk with her to the sea, and Lizzy felt marginally better getting outside. She turned over the letter in her mind. Georgiana hugged her as they looked at the water.

“Do not worry, Lizzy. Fitzwilliam said he is just taking Sally to London for a time because Mrs. Knob, our housekeeper in London, asked for a little more help right now. She will be back.”

Lizzy tried to muster up a smile for Georgiana. _Of course, that is what she thinks is bothering me. And I suppose it is a little. I already do miss Sally. But how can I talk to Georgiana about her own brother proposing to me, and my rejection of it?_ She bit her lip unconsciously. In the distance she made out something splashing in the water. _Probably just a jumping fish. Oh, but I wish it was Jane. I want to tell Jane the whole disastrous story. Have I been unfair to Darcy? He_ was _a pompous jerk. He_ did _demean me. And yet, obviously I was seeing Wickham wrong. I was right the first time. He is a shark. A disgusting, decaying, rotting shark._ She shook her head a little and leaned down to undo her shoes.

Letting the water lap over her toes felt exquisite, and Lizzy could just about pretend that all was alright. Then a larger wave hit, catching most of her dress, soaking it in water. _What a thing for Darcy to say. He would not hold me back. And I almost believe him. He seems sincere. I do not think he is making it up, and I certainly believe that he does not have my skin. But then who does? Where is it? I wish I could find it. But I still would not go back to the colony. Not yet. Valentine, I finally understand. I do feel the call. I would no more leave right now then I would try to attack a walrus._

Lizzy shook her head a little, wanting to unpin her hair too. She looked at Georgiana and saw a readiness to mischief there. It made her smile, even if was a bit forced. “Come. We already got our dresses wet. We might as well make the most of it. Jump in with me?” She did unpin her hair and her smile became much more natural as Georgiana gleefully joined her.

“Eek. It is cold, Lizzy!” Georgiana called, squealing happily. They both plunged under the waves and turned on their backs to float and look up at the sun.

 _Maybe when Darcy comes back, we can talk more._ Lizzy found herself thinking. She sighed, unsure. The heaviness seemed to push against her again. Maybe with enough time, she could make sense of all this. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy paced in his townhouse. He positioned himself so that he could see the water. He seemed to always want to be near it now. It seemed somehow vital. _I am being ridiculous. I need to pull myself together. She has already rejected me. It cannot matter. And yet, I feel so drawn to it. I want to help her. I do not care if she is something mythical. She always was mythical to me anyway._ He leaned against the door, letting his eyes soak in the glassy surface of the water. He could just about picture Lizzy smiling at him as she dived into the water. _Would she disappear forever? Is she here just to vex me? No. That is horrible. I have seen her take great pleasure in the world around her. As she should._

Darcy sighed again but was jolted out of his reverie by the entrance of Sally the maid. She bobbed at him “Hello, Mr. Darcy, Sir. You sent for me?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for coming Sally.” He gestured for her to sit down and sat down himself. He had decided to delay the conversation until now, not wanting to distress her on their travel to London. “First of all, I want you to know how sorrowful I am anything bad happened to you while you were working for me.” He saw her face melt a little and quickly handed her a handkerchief. He made himself busy with getting them both a cup of tea to hopefully give her a little space to herself. “We will not talk of this again, but I need to be sure you have been able to make your own decisions. I do not want you forced into anything. Did Mrs. Reynolds lay out all the options for you?”

Sally nodded. “She did, Sir. I am not sure what to think yet.”

“You still have plenty of time. And if you think of something else that we did not think of – you have just to ask, Sally. In no way should you feel punished for what happened. It was not your fault.”

She nodded again but started crying heavily. _She makes me think of Georgiana so much._ Darcy sighed to himself. _I suppose this is not how I should act, but I cannot just watch her cry_. Darcy carefully got up and said quietly, “There is no shame in crying, Sally. Would you like a hug?”

She looked up gratefully and got up to hug her master. At any other time, she would have been shocked at herself, but right now it seemed natural. They were just two people. She had endured something difficult that was not supposed to be acknowledged and had been storing up emotions for months. Being able to just pour out her tears felt amazing.

Darcy patted her awkwardly, not minding that his coat was soaking with her tears. His mind returned to Lizzy and how he had botched his proposal. _I hope she is doing well. I hope she does not feel so lost – alone without her family, just like Sally. Without someone to hold her while she cries._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title here comes from another poem from Yeats that is just so rich in imagery. This is a poem I will say out loud to my poor dog (I am saying it out loud to her right now) because of its pure loveliness. And, man, it works so well with where Lizzy is thinking on the sea. Here is “The White Birds:”  
> I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!  
> We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;  
> And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,  
> Has awakened in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
> 
> A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;  
> Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,  
> Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:  
> For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!
> 
> I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,  
> Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;  
> Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret of the flames would we be,  
> Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!


	6. Singing-Masters of My Soul

Georgiana came bounding up to Lizzy who was ensconced in their library. It was by far her favorite room. She had never seen anything like it because stories and information were not kept the same way in the colony. Here, they were written in books made of paper. The books were as high as the ceiling and ordered in such a meticulous way, curtesy of Darcy who Georgiana said put everything in order after their mother’s death as a way to work through his grief.

She had been losing herself in the library since Darcy had gone to London because it made her feel close to him. With Georgiana there to continually chat about how wonderful her older brother was, Lizzy was rethinking almost every interaction they had. _I mean he did rescue me and care for me. I wonder if that would have happened as well if another person had found me first._ She felt herself shiver, fearing the man who took her skin before Darcy found her. _I wish I knew who it was so that I could get it back._

Georgiana called for Lizzy’s attention again, “Lizzy, look, Fitzwilliam sent a letter.”

“A letter!” Lizzy said a bit louder than she meant to. She had a brief moment where she wildly imagined Georgiana holding the letter he had given her and taking her to task for refusing her brother.

“Yes. They made it safely to London, and he even had Sally write a little note to each of us. Here is yours.”

Lizzy quickly read over the short letter from Sally, which was mostly happy. She did hint at how difficult things would become over the next couple of months, which made Lizzy very curious. Most surprising to her, Sally warned her against Wickham. _Strange that she should say that, is it not? Or maybe not so strange. Surely not . . . it cannot be that Sally is one of the ones Wickham hurt_.

Lizzy needed to find a seat because suddenly her legs felt too weak to hold her. She sank down, feeling disturbed. _Poor Sally._ This made her think about Darcy who seemed to be going out of his way to take care of her. _I hope she will be alright. Why will the next several months be more difficult?_ Lizzy was just about to ask Georgiana about that when Mrs. Reynolds came into the room.

“I thought I might find you two here. Lunch is ready. Miss. Georgiana, we have the hamper quite ready to where you might like to go. Clarence will carry it for you.”

Georgiana practically beamed. “You will go on a picnic with me, Lizzy?”

Lizzy could not help feeling charmed by Georgiana’s girlish glee. “I would be delighted. I have never gone on a picnic before.”

“Never?”

Lizzy shook her head.

“Then this will be even better. Come on,” Georgiana pulled her up. “I know just the place for someone’s first picnic.”

Mrs. Reynolds looked on with a warm smile as Georgiana pulled Lizzy with her. She said quietly to herself, “What a blessing that strange woman has been to this house. She seemed to brighten everyone up considerably.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy leaned back on her hands, letting the sun warm her face. _Picnics are delightful_. She decided happily. They had a wonderful meal of baked chicken and fresh bread. It felt decadent eating outside. “You were right Georgiana. This is the best way to partake of food.”

Georgiana smiled to her companion. “I know! I wish we could always have a picnic, especially when the weather is so nice and accommodating.”

She sat up, “Clarence, did Cook send us any dessert.”

“Of course, Miss.” They both could hear the smile in his answer, which made Lizzy sit up and open her eyes.

He pulled out some treacle tart, which he passed to both. It looked gooey and delicious. Georgiana and Lizzy tucked into their food happily, but the tranquility was suddenly broken. They both heard a loud toppling sound and looked back to see Clarence crumpled on the ground.

Georgiana screamed, and Lizzy stood up, letting the food spill everywhere. Standing behind poor Clarence was a wild-eyed Wickham. He was brandishing a mean looking dagger, the hilt of which he had used to knock Clarence out. Lizzy could feel herself shaking. _After everything I heard about him, I do not want to be in the same space as him and now he comes after us with a weapon._ “What kind of man are you?” She called to the panting Wickham.

He smiled up at her with a devilish grin. “The kind who does not care about so called rules. I will do what I want because I can.” He advanced, and Lizzy put herself in between him and Georgiana.

“You are a coward who comes to attack people who were just enjoying their day. You disgust me.”

“Oh, do not say that, Lizzy. I rather thought you liked talking with me.” He reached out his hand and tried to stroke Lizzy’s cheek, but she pulled away. “I am sure you would have come with me eventually if Darcy had not banned me from the land.”

“Do not be so sure. You have a rather high opinion of yourself that does not seem to be justified.”

“What did you do to Sally?” A small voice interjected. Lizzy turned to look at Georgiana surprised. “She said you did something but would not tell me the specifics. Why would you even hurt her? Sally was always kind to everyone.”

“Who is Sally?” Wickham asked, exuding genuine confusion.

“The maid you hurt.” Lizzy said through clenched teeth.

“Oh her.” He sounded almost like he was laughing. “I never did hear her name.” He tried to lean around Lizzy to look at Georgiana, but Lizzy continued to block him. “I would explain it to you, little Georgie, but I would much rather show you.”

Lizzy was revolted and filled with a strong fury. She ignored the knife in his hand and swung up at his face with the fork she was still clutching. She dug into his skin, hitting as hard as she could manage. It did not do as much damage as she hoped, but she was pleased when the wound on his face started bleeding. Wickham roared in pain, gripping his face as blood seeped through his hand. “You bitch!” He yelled.

Then everything seemed to happen at once. He moved forward, brandishing his knife, Lizzy tried to find something else to protect herself with, and Georgiana tried to move behind Lizzy to help in the fight. They all scuffled, Wickham hit Lizzy hard in the face, which was sure to lead to a black eye, but even more troubling got a hold of Georgiana. He had his arm tight around her wait and his other hand held the dagger up to her throat.

“You do not want to be responsible for my hurting your dear friend, do you?” He asked, pressing the knife into Georgiana’s skin.

“Do not listen to him, Lizzy. He would not kill me. Run and get help.”  
“I am not leaving you.”

“Oh, how sweet. The two of you being such good friends. Too bad it does not really matter. You are both just chattel here for my pleasure. However, I do not fancy being caught by Darcy’s paid guards.” He quickly delivered a blow to Georgiana’s head, which made Lizzy scream. Georgiana fell to the ground.

“You monster! How could you do that to her?”

“Oh that? Did it bother you, Lizzy? I did it for you, you know.” He moved slightly forward, and Lizzy felt trapped. “There is something about you. Since the first time I saw you, I knew I wanted you for my own.” He moved a step closer, and Lizzy moved a step back. “You are mine to possess. To own.”

“You will never own me.” Lizzy took another step back, hitting a tree. _What am I going to do? How can I get away from here and get help for Georgiana and Clarence?_

“That is what you say. But you are just a dumb slut. What other purpose do you have? Surely it is obvious to you that you are here for my pleasure.” He reached for her, grabbing her hair roughly in his hand. “What is it about you that makes you so enthralling? I know I should not be back here, especially so soon. The men will be looking for me, but I just could not leave without you. So I thought, why not bring the bitch with me?”

Lizzy tried to squirm away, but he had boxed her in. She lunged at him, trying to do anything to give her some leeway to escape.

Wickham laughed at her efforts. “There is nothing you can do to help yourself. But I like the feistiness. That should prove very fun for me. Just not right now. I need you to calm down enough to come with me somewhere else where we will not be caught.”

“I am not going anywhere with you, Wickham.”

“Oh, I think you will find that you are.” Wickham reached back behind him and pulled out Lizzy’s skin. She had not seen it since the day she washed ashore. As soon as it came into view, Lizzy could practically hear it singing to her, calling out for her to come take it from the grubby hands that held it. She wanted to caress it, feeling the tangible connection to her other self. She had not realized that all the color had drained from her face as she watched Wickham stroke her skin. It felt like someone was violating her vey self. Like someone had pushed inside her and was rubbing beyond her flesh. _It is the worst feeling. I need it to stop. It has to –_

“Stop!” She screamed.

Wickham merely laughed again. “Why would I stop when it feels so good? Such a silky hide. Mine to enjoy. Come on. You have to come with me, I think. You do not really get a choice, do you?”

Lizzy stared in mute horror as he walked, pulling her with him. She could not fight back against the feeling that was overwhelming her as he continued to violate her skin. Lizzy was dizzy with confusion and felt out of joint. _I cannot make sense of things. It is like someone has reached inside of my very soul. Is he holding onto that?_ Wickham smiled at her, almost pleasantly, which made her even more anxious. He twisted the skin idly in his hands, which made Lizzy cry out despite her own desires. _I do not want to show him weakness, but I cannot seem to help it._ She bit her own lip, frustrated at herself. Finally, Wickham grabbed her arm with his other hand. In a bruising grip, he dragged her away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Georgiana felt muddled and confused. A great pain seemed to radiate from the side of her head. “Why does my head hurt? What happened? Lizzy?” she tried to say. However, it did not seem like she succeeded.

She could not muster the strength to push herself up, and she just blinked her eyes. She could see that a little way beyond her Wickham was dragging Lizzy behind him.

“No!” She struggled to shout. Summoning all of her strength, she pushed herself up. “Let her go!” She tried to call. But her voice was not very strong and was carried away in the wind. “We need to help her. Clarence!” She moved to where he was slumped on the ground. “Clarence, hurry! We need to get help. He took Lizzy.”

Clarence did not respond, but Georgiana did see him breathing. “Alright. Alright. He is not getting up. I can do this.” Georgiana set off, running quickly, swaying a bit to the side. She was shaking and terrified but pushed past her feelings of discomfort. She just wanted to help her friend. She only wished that Darcy were there to help, but she knew he would come as soon as she could tell him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy tried to pull on the ropes that bound her wrists to a chain embedded in the wall. She had a little slack and could move a little space in either direction. Her mouth had a dirty cloth shoved in it and another tied around her head. And she wanted to pull it out but was already sporting several bruises for having tried to fight back, as little as she was able. She decided she did not care, and removed the gag from her mouth. Spitting it out, she tried to remove the terrible taste that accompanied it. _I hate that taste!_ Worse still, Wickham gleefully would play with her skin, which she was not sure she could take anymore of. _Calm down. Calm down._ _I will not panic. I will not scream. I need to be calm and rational and not let him scare me._

 _Who am I kidding, of course I am terrified. This serpent has me bound up in whatever place this is. How am I going to get away? Can I escape if he has my skin?_ Lizzy shook her head at herself. _I cannot believe Wickham had it the whole time I knew him._ The thought made her stomach turn, and Lizzy leaned over, throwing up next to where she was tied up. The violation was becoming too much for her. _We are not made to have our skin desecrated. We are supposed to treasure our own skin and present it to the person we love. Not have a disgusting worm play with it for his own pleasure._

The door opened and Wickham slithered inside. He scrunched up his nose. “What is that revolting smell?” His eyes moved from Lizzy to just next to her. “You bitch. We must live here for the foreseeable future. You are going to have to clean that up.” Throwing a cloth at her head, he casually spilled a bucket of water on her. It was cold and made her skin prickle. “You must like the water, so you are welcome. I guess I am a gracious host.” He leaned down and immediately stuffed the gag back in her mouth, securing it with the extra cloth. 

Lizzy wanted to respond to him but with her mouth gagged she was silenced. _Of course, the coward would make sure his prey is incapable of speaking back to him._ She fixed her eyes on him and refused to move to clean up the mess.

"You better obey me. You will not like me when I am angry.” Wickham approached her menacingly, and Lizzy steeled herself for more of his anger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I a broken record? Of course, I am! Here again, I just want to wax eloquent on the amazing images Yeasts uses. How is he so dang good at them? It makes me want to simply luxuriate in the words, phrasing, and imagery here. The title for this chapter comes from his brilliant “Sailing to Byzantium” (you’ll probably recognize that opening phrase from either the McCarthy book or the Coen brothers’ film):  
> I
> 
> That is no country for old men. The young  
> In one another's arms, birds in the trees,  
> —Those dying generations—at their song,  
> The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,  
> Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long  
> Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.  
> Caught in that sensual music all neglect  
> Monuments of unageing intellect.
> 
> II
> 
> An aged man is but a paltry thing,  
> A tattered coat upon a stick, unless  
> Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing  
> For every tatter in its mortal dress,  
> Nor is there singing school but studying  
> Monuments of its own magnificence;  
> And therefore I have sailed the seas and come  
> To the holy city of Byzantium.
> 
> III
> 
> O sages standing in God's holy fire  
> As in the gold mosaic of a wall,  
> Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,  
> And be the singing-masters of my soul.  
> Consume my heart away; sick with desire  
> And fastened to a dying animal  
> It knows not what it is; and gather me  
> Into the artifice of eternity.
> 
> IV
> 
> Once out of nature I shall never take  
> My bodily form from any natural thing,  
> But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make  
> Of hammered gold and gold enamelling  
> To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;  
> Or set upon a golden bough to sing  
> To lords and ladies of Byzantium  
> Of what is past, or passing, or to come.


	7. Sister of Sorrowful Gaze

Darcy leaned against the bookshelf, allowing himself a few moments to stare out at the bleak London streets. _I really hate it here_. He heard the door open and moved to look a bit more presentable for whoever entered. _I really do not want to be caught wool gathering_.

“A letter, brought by Fred from Pemberley.”

“Fred the footman? Why would he be delivering letters?” Darcy felt his heart stop. _This can only mean bad news._ He tore open the letter, noting that it was from his sister. The contents horrified him, describing a scene of terror, and Darcy started shaking. “Send for Sally.” He called to the person he was sure was still there watching him, even though he could not seem to see anything past the letter.

_My Lizzy taken by that fiend Wickham? Bastard! I should have imprisoned him when I had the chance. If something has happened to her, I will never forgive myself._ Darcy tried to calm himself down, knowing that right now a clear, level head would be vital.

Sally entered the room, curtsying to Darcy. “You called me, Sir?”

“Sally, something terrible has happened at Pemberley. I apologize bringing up anything that might be painful to you, but it must be done to help another. I think you mentioned that when Wickham took you, he dragged you to a particular place?”

Sally looked confused and concerned. “Yes sir. That’s right. He took me first on my day off, when I had travelled to London to meet my sister. Then he forced me to go to one of the inns by the docks. He seemed to have a room there for his particular use.” She started nervously gripping her hands together. “You know that he enjoyed himself all day before he let me go.” Her breathing was starting to speed up.

Darcy said, as gently as he could, “Could you show me where it was? Tell me which inn on the docks? I would not ask this of you if it were not of supreme importance.”

She nodded. “I know Sir. I trust you. I don’t know its name, but I will recognize the building once we get there.”

He nodded. “We will leave immediately.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy sat rigidly in the carriage. He would have preferred to take Circe but knew that he needed Sally’s information. _It is better to go in with a plan. To know for certain than to just show up banging on all the doors of all the inns._ He tried to tell himself. This did give him time to write letters to the local constables and to the guards. His men would be able to deliver them as he was helping Lizzy. _I hope. What if he has already hurt her? Of course, he has. He would not merely hold onto her._ He shook his head. _Those thoughts are not helpful. Get a grip. At least they are in London. It seems likely that Wickham will want to follow something similar as what he did to Sally. He would have brought Lizzy here. I am almost sure of it._

Just in case that is not what had happened, Darcy had sent several more men back to Pemberley and the surrounding area, looking for places he could have gone. That area is too well known, and Darcy feels reasonably sure that people would not ignore a slumped over woman. _They would know she did not want to be there and report it. Right? If he is not in London, Lizzy will already be safe_. He knew he was telling himself these things, but he had to. He needed to be present in order to function and could not allow himself the luxury of losing himself right now.

“How much further?” He called to his coachman.

“Not far, Sir. We close to where the girl described.”

Sally was sitting up, looking out the window, trying to find markers to lead her back to where she remembered being held. Darcy was so thankful that she was submitting herself to this pain for Lizzy. _Maybe all will be well._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sure enough, not too long after, Sally pointed out the inn she remembered. She gave Darcy the room number, which he barely stayed to listen for. He jumped down and was rushing inside, not at all conscious of his two men who were following behind. He had given the letters to Sally and trusted that she would see them delivered.

“What shall we do, Sir?” One of the men called out to him.

“Mark, secure the location. Make sure no one is able to leave until the sheriff gets here.” Darcy called. “Arthur, keep a keen ear out. If I need you, I will call. I want you backing up Mark for now.” He was not sure what he would find, but he was not going to let Wickham get away a second time.

He slowed down when he got to the door bearing the number Sally had said. He took time to breathe deeply and draw his sword. Then, he kicked the door open. It took a few moments for his eyes to make sense of the scene.

Lizzy was chained to a wall, and Wickham seemed to be shouting at her as he hit her. All rational thinking left Darcy as he hurled himself at the man hurting his beloved. “Do not touch her. You bastard!” He yelled as he landed against Wickham’s side.

Wickham looked stunned at Darcy’s entrance but recovered quickly enough. “I should have known you would come after the hussy. She’s your whore, isn’t she.” Wickham sneered. If he was doing better thinking, he might have realized that it was not a good idea to antagonize a man of Darcy’s nature.

Indeed, Darcy was incensed and worried about Lizzy. He wanted to dispatch of Wickham as quickly as possible so he could check on his love. “Wickham. You are a scoundrel and deserve death.” Darcy said as he advanced.

Wickham grabbed his own sword, and they quickly began fighting. Darcy was on the offensive, with Wickham trying to provide defense for himself. They parried and pushed forward, the other falling back. Darcy had always been the better swordsman, and wildly Wickham recalled all the times they had practiced against each other at Cambridge before Darcy refused to spend time with him. That memory fueled more fury from Wickham. He pushed back, attempting to be the aggressor. He knew that was the only way he would be able to beat Darcy. “Why do you always take what is mine, Darcy? I found her first. I did. Why did you get the actual woman, and I just get the skin? It is not fair. My whole life has not been fair. You get everything, and I am left with nothing.”

Darcy responded to Wickham’s attack and bided his time, letting the man tire himself out a little. As Wickham yelled in anger, Darcy took the opportunity to plunge into the side he left undefended. He pierced deep and far, then pulled out his weapon, watching Wickham fall to the ground, bleeding profusely.

Darcy barely spared another glance at Wickham’s fallen body. Instead, he moved quickly to where Lizzy was still chained to the wall. She seemed to be out of it with her eyes tightly shut.

“Lizzy.” Darcy called softly, loath to frighten her more. He gently touched her cheek. “It is Darcy. No one is going to hurt you again. Can you open your eyes?”

He did not wait for a response but got to work un-gagging her. Tenderly, he took out the rag that had been shoved into her mouth. His blood boiled looking at Lizzy’s dear face, covered in bruising. She finally opened her eyes and blinked uncertainly at Darcy.

“Mr. Darcy?”

He smiled at her. “That is right, Lizzy. It is me. Your Darcy. Here, let me untie your wrists.” He set about trying to untangle the knots that bound her to the wall. They were tied very tightly, and it took him sometime to get them undone. Her wrists were rubbed raw and bleeding in creatin places, indicating the struggle she put up while Wickham held her.

“You are here?” She asked, clearly dazed.

“Yes, Lizzy. I came as soon as I heard what happened. How are you? Are you hurt anywhere?”

She rubbed at her own wrists, which made Darcy take her hands into his own. “Do not rub them, Lizzy. They are already rubbed raw. Here. Let me help you clean them out.” He looked around the room and noticed a pitcher of water. He grabbed it and soaked the small towel that was next to it. He soothed her wrists with the coolness of the water. Her wide eyes looked back up at him.

“You are helping me.” She pointed out a little obviously.

Darcy could not stop himself from smiling. “Yes. Of course, I am, Lizzy. I am yours. I would do anything for you.” He felt his voice catch inside of him. “I just wish I had been there to protect you.”

Lizzy looked at him, seeing the clear defeat and frustration on his face. “You were. You are here now.” She whispered. “That is better than I expected.”

“You thought I would leave you to him?”

“No. I knew you would never do that. You are too good. I just did not expect such kindness from you after I . . .” She trailed off uncertainly.

Darcy smiled at her instead of making her finish her thought. “Here, do you feel ready to stand? Would you mind if I looked you over?”

She smiled at him, “No. Go ahead.” She almost managed a teasing tone. “He really only seemed to like hitting my face. Everything else is just from the struggle or from him trying to keep me here.” She tried to assure him.

It did little to make Darcy feel better because it all seemed so horrible to him. “Nothing else?” He forced himself to ask. He wanted to be what Lizzy needed and was trying to keep his expectations nonexistent. “Whatever happened. It is alright. We will help you and nothing is wrong with you or tainted.” He tried to explain, hoping he was saying the right things. “I should have brought Sally in with me. I bet you would like to see her?”

Lizzy perked up a little more hearing that. “Is Sally here? I would like to see her. But not just yet.” She leaned against Darcy as he helped her stand. He quickly put his arm around her, trying to provide stability. She let him take almost all of her weight, feeling protected and cared for by him. The feeling of safety overwhelmed her, and she felt tears pricking in her eyes.

However, just as soon as the warm feelings of safety enveloped her, they seemed to dissipate. It suddenly seemed as if everything felt wrong. Lizzy let out a scream of pain as WRONG WRONG WRONG dominated her mind. Darcy looked at her in confusion but followed her gaze to look up and over to where he left Wickham languishing in his own blood.

Wickham had managed to drag himself up and pull Lizzy’s skin over to himself. He was now ruthlessly twisting and pulling at it. Lizzy screamed louder. Though it took him a moment longer than he would have liked, Darcy finally realized what was happening.

“Wickham! Stop it. You are hurting her.” He cried out.

Wickham cackled. “That’s sort of the point, you idiot. You have her, which you think is all that matters, but I have her skin. What can you do if I keep hurting her like this?” He continued to manipulate and torture the skin. Lizzy leaned completely on Darcy, incapable of supporting herself. Darcy looked from her to Wickham, trying to decide what he should do next.

Wickham watched the confusion on Darcy’s face with glee. He reached over and pulled a lit candle closer to him. “What would happen if I burn it, I wonder? Would your flesh burn, Lizzy? Would you turn to ash as the skin would?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I wanted to use his other really lovely fairy poem “The Fairy Pendant.” It is such a fun, strange poem:  
> Scene: A circle of Druidic stones
> 
> First Fairy: Afar from our lawn and our levee,  
> O sister of sorrowful gaze!  
> Where the roses in scarlet are heavy  
> And dream of the end of their days,  
> You move in another dominion  
> And hang o'er the historied stone:  
> Unpruned in your beautiful pinion  
> Who wander and whisper alone.
> 
> All: Come away while the moon's in the woodland,  
> We'll dance and then feast in a dairy.  
> Though youngest of all in our good band,  
> You are wasting away, little fairy.
> 
> Second Fairy: Ah! cruel ones, leave me alone now  
> While I murmur a little and ponder  
> The history here in the stone now;  
> Then away and away I will wander,  
> And measure the minds of the flowers,  
> And gaze on the meadow-mice wary,  
> And number their days and their hours—
> 
> All: You're wasting away, little fairy.
> 
> Second Fairy: O shining ones, lightly with song pass,  
> Ah! leave me, I pray you and beg.  
> My mother drew forth from the long grass  
> A piece of a nightingle's egg,  
> And cradled me here where are sung,  
> Of birds even, longings for aery  
> Wild wisdoms of spirit and tongue.
> 
> All: You're wasting away, little fairy.
> 
> First Fairy [turning away]: Though the tenderest roses were round you,  
> The soul of this pitiless place  
> With pitiless magic has bound you—  
> Ah! woe for the loss of your face,  
> And the loss of your laugh with its lightness—  
> Ah! woe for your wings and your head—  
> Ah! woe for your eyes and their brightness—  
> Ah! woe for your slippers of red.
> 
> We'll dance and then feast in a dairy.  
> Though youngest of all in our good band,  
> She's wasting away, little fairy.


	8. Heavens’ Embroidered Cloths

Darcy felt his heart stop inside of him. _Wickham would not dare, right?_ He stared into the cruel eyes of Wickham as he clutched the skin of the woman Darcy loved. Lizzy moved uneasily in his arms. Wickham smiled at them both. Blood colored his once white teeth, and the smile had a ghoulish tinge that made Darcy’s skin crawl. _He looks like a wild creature that lives off blood._ For one wild moment it flitted across Darcy’s mind that since selkies were real, maybe vampires were too. But he was quickly jarred from his thinking when he felt Lizzy stiffen in his arms and heard her moan as Wickham continued to violate her skin.

_I cannot allow this. He is hurting my Lizzy._ He gently leaned her against the wall for support. “Wickham, I did try to show you mercy. Just remember that.” Darcy advanced on him, not bothering to pick up a weapon. The fury that burned inside him felt hot enough to scorch even this faithless bastard.

Wickham looked almost surprised, but then reacted by holding the skin over the flame. Lizzy’s scream dominated Darcy’s mind, and he tackled Wickham. As Wickham fell over, the candle blew out. He tried to fight back, but he had lost a lot of blood and the attack was feeble. Wickham did manage to bite into Darcy’s wrist, causing him to yelp. Darcy punched him with animalistic fervor.

“Why must you torment all the people I care about? What is wrong with you?” Darcy asked. He hit him one more time and Wickham lost consciousness. He felt the desperate need to make sure Wickham would never get up again. Darcy would have liked to keep hitting him, but Lizzy was a more important concern.

He left the bleeding body without a concern for it. He did not even notice that Wickham’s pulse had stopped, and no breath entered him anymore.

“Lizzy. Lizzy? Are you alright? Did it hurt you terribly?” Darcy felt panic crawling up his throat, choking him. Lizzy was slumped against the wall, having slid down it during his fight with Wickham. He moved to gently check her breathing, but when he touched her Lizzy shuddered. He immediately back up, uncertain and unsure of what to do. “I would never want to hurt you, Lizzy. Please trust that. I just want to see if I can render any aid to you.”

Before he could touch her again, Lizzy’s eyes flew open and locked with his own. Her eyes seemed to spark with a strange, unrecognizable fire, which set him even more aflame. She seemed defiant and somehow triumphant even as she was not able to stand on her own. _Lord, I love this woman_.

“My skin.” She managed to get out.

Darcy looked over for it and saw that Wickham still clutched it. _I am such an idiot_. He rushed over and pried Wickham’s hands away from it, absently noting how cold they seemed to be. _Should I be touching it? Will this hurt her_? “Lizzy forgive me. I just need to carry it to you and then I will not touch it anymore.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy’s whole body ached. She was furious that Wickham had controlled her for such a long time, but now as she considered, _It was probably not that long. It just felt like an incredibly long time._ She leaned against the wall and her whole body seemed charged with the pain of the violation. She could not make sense of what was happening around her because the WRONGNESS of it was all her mind had space for. It just kept sounding the alarm: “Get your skin. It is hurting. Release your skin. Kill whoever is touching it.”

She gathered all her presence of mind, realizing that Darcy was hovering near her. _Dear man_. “My skin” she communicated the thing she needed in order to think straight and be able to talk with him. He disappeared from her side, and she still was curled in on herself, as if that could protect her from the violation she was experiencing.

Blessedly, the WRONG died almost too abruptly, leaving Lizzy breathless with the freedom from it. Mere typical or normal did not replace it. Rather, Lizzy was surprised to find that RIGHT now dominated her mind. She was almost having a hard time thinking because instead of wanting to maim and kill the person holding her skin, now she wanted to crawl into his lap and rest in the comfort of his arms. Lizzy lifted her head and saw Darcy awkwardly trying to hold her skin in the most unobtrusive way possible. He seemed to be talking, but Lizzy could not quite concentrate enough to realize what he was saying. He looked like a misbehaving child who was caught and trying to explain why he had to act out.

Lizzy allowed her face to relax into a beatific smile. “Darcy. You are my skin-keeper.” To her this explained everything, but Darcy looked even more unsure of himself.

“I am trying to give it back to you, Lizzy. I do not want to hurt you.” He did not notice that he was absently rubbing the fur that he held in his hands, which caused Lizzy to smile even more. She felt laughter bubble up inside of her and did not attempt to hold it back.

“My skin has made its own decision, so it is a good thing I agree with it.” Lizzy was feeling much better and pushed herself from the wall. She grabbed Darcy’s hand, holding it on top of her skin. “It has chosen you as its keeper. Will you accept this sacred mission?”

Darcy looked at her, trying to read the right answer in her face. “I would do anything for you, including keeping your skin safe.”

Lizzy tried to breath deeply, overwhelmed by the goodness in the man. She could feel it seeping into her own skin, both her seal skin and her flesh. She reached up and tenderly caressed his cheek. Darcy leaned into her touch. “Then you shall. Please keep the skin safe. I trust you with it. I want you to hold onto it, but carefully keep it from me.”

Darcy looked even more confused. “Why would I do that?”

Lizzy shrugged. “I am not really sure. Not many of my colony ever ventured to the human land, but I think it will keep me here.”

“I would not . . . Lizzy, you must know that I would not mind if you wanted to visit your family.”

Lizzy smiled at his sweetness. “I am not fully sure how it works. I bet I can figure out a way to communicate with Jane, she is my sister, and then we can figure out the rules. Until then, will you keep it for me. Maybe tucked into your side. I rather like the way it feels against your skin.” She said this absently and began to put herself together, anticipating leaving the room.

Darcy’s entire face was turning bright red at the thought, and his delight, of keeping Lizzy pressed into his skin at all times. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sally embraced Lizzy when they finally made it back to the carriage. Darcy gave orders to his men and met with the constable who had finally appeared. He seemed frustrated and irritated when the man asked to speak to Lizzy, but she did not mind. They were able to get through everything fairly quickly and were soon on their way.

“We will go back to the London house for the night, but then can go back to Pemberley in the morning if that works for you, Lizzy?” Darcy asked.

Lizzy nodded. “Will Sally be joining us? Georgiana and I miss you.” She took Sally’s hand, squeezing it. 

Sally shrugged. “I think it is better if I stay in London. For my family if nothing else.”

Lizzy nodded at her sadly. She let go of Sally’s hand and reached for Darcy’s instead. He readily gave it to her, and she tugged him closer. Darcy knew he was blushing, but sternly told himself to get it together. _If Lizzy needs me by her right now then that is where I need to be_. He moved so that he was as close to her as possible, which made her sigh in contentment. She relaxed into him, unconsciously pressing her skin in between herself and Darcy. Everything felt so right and content that Darcy wrapped an arm around Lizzy. _Will I be able to ask her to marry me again?_ He wondered to himself, watching her drift into an easy slumber. _I will need to if she is this demonstrative. I would never deny Lizzy anything, including my presence. But I do not want anyone to ever speak badly about her. I need to make sure I protect her._ A smile played about his face. His thoughts were so happy and so different than they had been just that morning. _It is amazing how it goes_. He luxuriated in the closeness of Lizzy, the heat he felt from her body, and the strange feeling the skin engendered, continually rubbing against him with even the slightest movement. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lizzy happily pulled on Darcy’s hand. “Come on, William! Hurry up.” She laughed at his slowness.

“I am coming. I cannot help it that when you see the water you are possessed by inhuman speed.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes, “Ridiculous. I cannot believe that you have to make up a reason I am faster than you are.”

He laughed, working to keep up because he really was not exaggerating. He was convinced some part of Lizzy’s other self would help her move just a little quicker when the prospect of water was present. He let her pull ahead and dropped his hand, just so he could watch her as she reached the edge of the water. She let it lap up against her feet.

She turned back to him, “It feels wonderful, William. Hurry up. Get your boots off!”

He shook his head fondly, “I will need your help getting them off if you want me frolicking along with you.”

She immediately left the water and rushed to him. “I suppose it is the job of any true wife to help her husband undress?” She asked teasingly.

Darcy groaned. “Mercy Lizzy. We are supposed to be enjoying the water right now, but I am only human.”

“Unlike me?” Her eyes gleamed with the pleasure of teasing him.

“That is not what I meant.” He replied with exacerbation.

She helped him get her boots off. Still on her knees, she quirked an eyebrow at him. “I was thinking of the things we could try in the water, but you have quite cleverly gotten me on my knees, which seems a very convenient position.”

Darcy took a moment to be thankful that Georgiana insisted they stay at Pemberley while she went to London after their marriage breakfast. They had only been married three days, but he was constantly afraid he would drive Lizzy away with how much he needed her. She surprised him with her own voracious appetite. They seemed to make a good pair, and Darcy was so thankful that Lizzy had chosen to forgive him for his many missteps.

Lizzy seemed to realize that he was caught up in thinking. “William. Come on. I really do want to show you the water and what we can do there together.” She let him pull her up again, and then she took his hand close in hers. “There is nothing for you to wonder over or feel guilty about. What do you humans always say? All’s well that ends well? I would say this is a very good end. So all must be well.”

“I never really trusted that idiom myself.” Darcy whispered back to her.

She laughed. “You can make your own if it matters so much. Right now, I want to work on furthering the ties between our two kinds. I have heard that we can have children together, but I would rather like to prove it.”

Darcy moaned against her, “Fine, but you better keep half an eye open for fishermen. I will not have the presence of mind to do so.”

“Do not concern yourself. Sally said she would make sure no one came along this cove all month.” Lizzy gleefully reported, turning back to watch her husband blush, which she found to be particularly appealing in the warm light of the sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is maybe the first poem I remember being like stopped in my place when I heard it. I can’t even remember the context, but I loved it. And then when Sean Bean reads it in Equilibrium I finally found it again and was SO HAPPY! It has those kind of lines that get stuck in my mind, so I've been saving it for the last chapter. It is a lovely, strange poem, and I prefer the original title Yeats gave it: “Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven.”  
> Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,  
> Enwrought with golden and silver light,  
> The blue and the dim and the dark cloths  
> Of night and light and the half-light,  
> I would spread the cloths under your feet:  
> But I, being poor, have only my dreams;  
> I have spread my dreams under your feet;  
> Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
> 
> Got a bit wild and recorded myself reading the poem (because poems really should be read aloud): [ Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven](https://youtu.be/0VHoDU03Oh4)


End file.
